


If you mean it

by Aosoth



Category: Insatiable (TV 2018)
Genre: Emotional, Gay Male Character, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 12:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21081152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aosoth/pseuds/Aosoth
Summary: Being very disappointed with the lack of Barnstrong love in the second season I decided to write how I would have liked it to have gone(well, one of the many scenarios I made up in my head. I'm overly invested in these two lol). It takes place sometime during the first half of the season and therefore off course, ignoring some of the things that happens after that. Any feedback appreciated :-)





	1. Chapter 1

Bob had been in a bad mood all day. Not that anything particular had happened. No, he had been going about his business with Patty as usual. Today however, his usual method of focusing a hundred percent on getting her ready for regionals to keep his mind of the rest of his mess of a life had failed him miserably. So, he had gone to Gymacide in attempt to calm down with the help of the treadmill. After some time he had given up though. Every minute seemed drawn out; the music was unusually obnoxious and his legs just would not stop feeling as if lactic acid had replaced all blood in them. Not to mention how terrible boring running was. He slammed the stop-button a little harder than he had intended and headed back to the changing room, the blood that seemed to have escaped his legs and emigrated to his head now boiling. So much for blowing off steam! 

As he entered the changing room, he came to a halt. There, on a hook, were Barnard’s clothes. He was here? He had not seen him out in the gym. No question about them being his though, Bob recognized that light purple sweater, his dark purple pants and that plaid shirt. And just like that, the heartbreak that had caused his foul mood made itself all too clear. The irritation that had turned to anger now melted away, giving way for the true emotion that had tormented him:deep, deep sadness. He walked up to the clothes and gently ran a finger over the soft sweater, imagining he was caressing Barnard. A lump grew steadily in his throat. He then picked it up and looked at it for a second or two, thumbs still caressing the fabric, before putting it to his face. It was a weird, slightly creepy thing to do but he could not help it. It smelled of him. All the memories of their short but sweet time together came back and Bob started to cry. He thought about their first kiss. Their first night together. Barnard's radiant smile and his gentle kisses. All the things that he had now lost because of his damn mind he couldn't make up before it was too late. As the first tears fell, the dam he had worked so hard to put up completely broke, letting the water works flood his whole being. He kept inhaling the sweet smell of Barnard, every breath raising the water levels even more until the gently falling tears turned into a downpour. It was crying of the ugly, most miserable kind, with a scrunched up face and loud, hopeless sobs.

Who the hell had he been kidding these past weeks? He had not moved on in the slightest. He still loved Barnard like nothing else despite his behavior towards him. Barnard’s rejection combined with the fact that he was apparently best buds with Coralee now was like burning knives to his heart. He could not recall a time when he had been more unhappy.

After what could have been seconds, minutes or even hours, he felt like he was being watched. Opening his eyes slightly, through his tears he saw a figure standing in the doorway. As his vision became clearer, he saw who it was. Barnard. There he stood, shirtless as always, sweaty and drop-dead gorgeous. Looking rather puzzled at the scene that was playing out before him. 

-Bob? What on earth are you doing?

Bob, realizing half his face was in Barnard's sweater, smelling it while simultaneously soaking it, wiped his tears as best as he could with the back of his hands and tried to steady his voice.

-Ehm, I…well I …ehm, just got something in my eye…

The lamest excuse ever, off course, but Bob's mind was a mess and he could not think of anything better to say. Barnard watched him with a look that could mean anything – sadness, compassion, irritation, contempt… Completely unreadable. Bobs hope that his look meant something positive was promptly shattered as Barnard went to grab his towel and headed to the showers without undressing first.

-Well, I hope you get rid of it. And that you rid yourself from this room before I’m back.

More calm now, but no less devastated, Bob watched Barnard take a few steps towards the showers before he spoke in a low, weak voice:

-I just don’t understand…

Barnard came to a halt and looked back at Bob with that same, unreadable face.

-You say you’ve loved me since we were fourteen. That you’ve pined for me and done crazy things to dull the hurt of not having me. And when I am finally ready to give you all of my heart, when I tell you that I choose you… Then suddenly you don’t want me.

New tears fell as he said that last sentence. It was a question in the guise of a statement that Barnard had failed to give an answer to after it all fell apart. Why, just..._why_? They looked at each other, silently, tears still making their way down Bob's cheeks. Was that a slight glimmer in Barnard's eyes, an almost invisible sign that he did still want him after all? Bob still could not tell. Probably just wishful thinking. As a few more seconds passed, Bob gave up on this leading anywhere. Embarrassed and feeling like a small child that had been scolded, he just wanted to get away from there as fast as he could. He grabbed his jacket, ignoring the rest of his stuff and headed towards the door. He stopped right beside Barnard, not looking at him, sheepishly handling him his sweater.  


-I believe this is yours.

Barnard thought long and hard after Bob left. He stood in the shower until the skin on his fingers turned wrinkly and when he finally managed to get out of it, he found himself just sitting on the changing room bench, staring at nothing. He felt a myriad of emotions but one in particular was all too familiar and it made him feel incredibly bad. Seeing Bob so vulnerable and beaten reminded him of that faithful day in the bathroom at weiner tacos. The feeling that he had gone too far in his actions, way past "pulling his pigtails" and that he needed to somehow resolve it. Barnard had, just like then, caused way too much pain to the man he in reality absolutely did not want to hurt in any way or form. Because Bob was dead wrong. Barnard still wanted Bob more than anything and he had in fact felt devastated since the night when Bob could not choose between him and Coralee.

But he could not let himself just run back into Bob's arms. Barnard had his reasons as to why he had been acting the way he had, and he was scared of what would happen if he were to change any decisions he had made after Bob had left his house. He was heartbroken as it was and to maybe add even more of that(was it even possible?) was more than he could stomach. But he still loved Bob, oh god how much he loved him! But all of Bob's going back-and forth had made his claims of love feel... thin. They weren't something to put much trust in. And yet, that sight of him crying so hard while clutching his sweater had yet again woken up a sliver of hope in him because he had never seen him this sad about anything before. Sure, Bob had cried when Barnard had told him he would end it and then again when he and Coralee had told him that he had to pick one of them. Never like this though. Was it possible that Bob had made his mind up, _really_ made up his mind? 

He weighted pros and cons against each other and finally came to a decision. Bob would get one final chance. But if he were to risk his heart even more then he needed to make something clear to Bob; He would not accept any less from him than what he himself was willing to give.  
He got dressed and went out to his car, heading for his house. But on the way, he made a quick detour to town to pick something up. 

Bob's phone beeped. He picked it up and when he saw that it was a text message from Barnard it was as if he had forgotten how to use a phone. He fumbled with it, almost dropping it to the floor, wrote the wrong unlock-code twice and then almost forgot how to open up a received message. Dear god, what was he going to say to him?

-We need to talk. Can you come over to my place?

-Off course. What time? Bob responded.

-8 pm.

-I’ll be there.


	2. Chapter 2

Never had two hours felt longer and never had any car ride felt like it would never end. Barnard wanted to talk. Maybe there was still a chance of them being a couple. Maybe this was it and Barnard would tell him to leave him the hell alone.

As he drove up to Barnard's house and got out of his car, he paused for a moment, trying to brace himself in case of the latter. Then he walked up to the door and rang the bell. His heart sank as Barnard opened the door. He was not smiling. He had that same look on his face that Bob could not decipher and that he hated so much because of it. But at least he did not tell him to get lost but instead told him to get in and to sit down at the dinner table. Neither of them spoke at first until Bob dared to break the silence.

-So, what did you want to talk about?

-You forgot your stuff at the gym.

Barnard pointed to a bag sitting in one of the corners. 

-Was that what you… wanted to talk about? Bob asked, dumbfounded.

Barnard sighted.

-No. We need to set a few things straight. So listen.

-I'm listening.

Bob’s heart was now doing its best to punch itself out of his chest, as if trying to save itself from what might be said next. The lump in his throat made it hard to speak and try as he might, no amount of swallowing would force it down. 

-When you say that you have chosen me, do you really mean it?

\- Yes! I know who I want now and it is you Bob. I love you.

-So even if Coralee were to tell you she wants you back, you would not consider it?

-Not any longer.

-See, here’s the thing: I find it hard to believe that.

Again, there were a few moments of silence between them. Then Barnard spoke again.

-When we were together you would constantly switch between wanting me and mooning over Cor…

-I wasn’t mooning over her, I was confused about how to deal with everything! Bob interrupted him. 

-And you still could not say no to her. Now, don’t get me wrong Bob, I understand that it was a hard time for you not being able to tell everyone on your own terms and that you weren't ready when Patty outed us. Trust me, I really do but that indecisiveness of yours really hurt me!

You hurt me. The gist of all that Barnard felt and had been feeling though out the weeks, laced with the always so stubborn and wonderful, god damn _hope_. He paused to calm down and not let that anger and frustration turn to shouting. That would not have been constructive and he needed to be as level-headed as he could right now.

-Just try to put yourself in my shoes Bob. After decades I finally felt like I actually had a chance of being happily in love, something I had given up on years ago. But you kept going on about how hard it all was for you and how unfair it was to Coralee. Yet you seemed happy enough to sleep with me every night. You being so close to being mine yet so distant was so much harder on me than believing I had no chance at all. And you never once asked how I was doing. It felt like you thought I was perfectly happy with mere crumbs because you knew just how much I wanted you. 

He paused for a second. He had spoken with a steady, hard voice until now when it changed into a low one, traces if sadness in it.

-Like my feelings weren’t important.

Yet again, the room fell into silence. Barnard was now looking down at the table instead of at him. Bob, who had felt like the victim in this situation realized that he was at least in part, the bad guy. Yes, Barnard had rejected his love. After that he and Coralee had become downright mean to him and that had been so uncalled for. He understood, off course, that he had caused them both pain. That they might have needed some space was only natural. But the hate they've shown towards him? His unwillingness to choose had only been due to love for them both, not malice. Barnard wasn't wrong however. He had really hurt Barnard, not just by not choosing him right away but before that too. Never had he intended it, but he had and that was undeniable now. He had taken everyone’s feelings into account – His own, Coralee's, Brick's – but not Barnard's. He had been a terrible boyfriend which Barnard must have been chocked to discover.

-Bob…I am so sorry. You are completely right.

Barnard looked up, his eyes moist.

-I had trouble with how to handle things. I disregarded your feelings and I did find it hard to choose between you and Coralee. But Bob, that is not how it is now. I love _you_, I want _you_. I realized that I wanted you more that same night. Being away from you have only made that realization stronger. Yes, I still feel sorry that Coralee had to find out the way she did because she deserved better, but I _do not love her_ that way anymore.

He continued:

-And as for everyone else, if they can’t accept me for who I am, for who I _love_, then what point is there to having them in my life? I am not scared of others opinions anymore. If I only have you beside me then come what may.

He hesitated before saying what he was about to say next because how much it already hurt.

-But I guess that does not matter anymore; I have pushed you away with my actions. And I…understand if you can't... if you don't _want_ to be with me.

Bob started to cry again.

-I’m sorry…He half-whispered, again feeling like he had in the changing room, again trying not to break down completely in front of Barnard. Looking away as to not having to see Barnard being unmoved by the breakup.

-That’s where you’re wrong, Bob.

Bob stopped sobbing, a slight but yet so sweet glimmer of hope running trough him once again. There was still a chance despite all he had just said? Barnard continued:

-I still love you as much as I ever have. I know I have been an absolute asshole towards you. But when you could not choose me over her I had to do what I could to protect my own heart. I simply could not let myself hope anymore because I was dying inside as it was. So I decided that this was the definite end for us and went back to my old way of coping; becoming the good ol’ Bob “bastard” Barnard again.

At that last sentence, Bob looked at Barnard with a surprised look. The tiniest of sad smiles fell upon Barnard’s lips upon seeing this.

-Yeah, I know you gave me quite the range of nick names before all of this started.

-Well, you weren’t very nice back then.

It was a cute little detour in this otherwise dismal conversation that erased both of their sadness for a fleeting moment, but then Bob remembered what it was really about. Especially the “definite end” part. 

-So, this is it for us then? His lips trembled.

Barnard did not answer immediately, but let out another sigh while he rose from his chair, digging for something in his pockets.

-That depends on you.

He put something on the table before Bob. Two small black boxes. Bob could not help but gasp. _Rings_? He looked up at Barnard, Barnard looking straight into his eyes.

-Wha…? 

-If you really mean it when you say you love me and only me, then let’s do this. I need to be sure that you will not go back to your old ways again, because I absolutely cannot take any more of that. Think about what it will do to me if you do. If there is even the slightest amount of doubt about what you want then just…let me give up so I can somehow start to heal.  
But if you are as sure as you claim, then commit. Because I will not do any less for you.

Bob, who for a second thought this was either just a cruel joke or that he was completely misunderstanding what Barnard was suggesting here, looked at him, then at the rings and then again, at Barnard. He tried to read him. There was not a trace of that unreadable face anymore. His voice had been hard but his eyes told another story. He looked as scared and small as Bob himself had felt when he came here. This demand for him to...commit... was completely serious and Barnard was terrified of what Bob might give for an answer. But...marriage? It was so soon! It was madness! And yet, what his brain tried to tell him were nothing but a faint, blurry noise; a mere white noise. He rose from his chair, took Barnard's hands in his and exclaimed through his tears the same word that his _heart_ was screaming at him to say:

-Yes! My answer is yes! 

Barnard, who had hoped for, but really not expected, this reaction looked at Bob as if he tried to comprehend what he had just said.

-Re..really? Now it was his lips that trembled.

-Yes silly! How many times do I need to tell you? I-love-_you_ Bob Barnard!

This finally managed to chase all of Barnard's doubts away. The things that Bob had told him he meant, he _actually_ meant it! They embraced and started kissing. In between kisses they both said “I love you” and “I’m sorry” to each other over and over again, both crying now. They had both been acting hurtful towards one another but there was no denying that they loved each other and by not being together they would only keep on hurting. After a while, Barnard took one of the rings and looked into Bob’s eyes, smiling nervously, eyes still wet.

-So. Do you, Bob Armstrong, take this Bob Barnard to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part?

He hardly got to finish before Bob exclaimed:

-I do! I do, I do I do!

And then calming down slightly, answering him in a voice more fitting to the gravity of the question.

-I do. He smiled and nodded his head gently.

Barnard put the ring on Bob’s finger. Bob then took the other ring and the process was repeated. They kissed again. They didn’t stop even as Barnard picked Bob up and carried him up towards the bedroom, like a groom carrying his bride.

A day had past since then. Barnard was busy cooking and setting the table, lightning candles and spreading rose petals around the white linen cloth. Bob would be greeted with a romantic dinner when he came home from work, a stark contrast to the not so warm welcome he had gotten the day before when he came to his door.

The night before had been a wonderful start of the rest of their lives together. They had made love, talked about their future, cried happy tears and laughed together (especially at how angry Bob's dad would be to hear about this), made love once more and then fallen asleep in each others arms. This night would be no worse. There was just one little detail that he needed Bob to know. 

The thing about the rings. Now, he definitely wanted to marry Bob for real some day. Bob was the love of his life and that would never change, because it never had during all those years. But this could be a long, long engagement for all he cared. Because, getting married after a sum of only a few weeks together was... rather crazy(all though he certainly would not mind doing so!). For them to tie the knot _now_ as a requirement for them to get back together had never been his intention. The rings had, however, provided a necessary means for Barnard to know if Bob had really been genuine. He knew Bob would not take such a commitment lightly and say yes just to have Barnard as some kind of safety net while he decided who he really wanted. Yes, someday he would marry Bob but not necessarily right away, if Bob wanted to wait. All of this Barnard would explain to Bob.

The door bell rang. Barnard had forgotten to give Bob back his keys this morning but they were now laying beside his plate with a little bow on them. Outside Bob stood, smiling from ear to ear. As soon as the door was fully opened he went straight into Barnard’s arms and they kissed hello.  


-I’ve missed you all day. Bob whispered.


End file.
